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Silver Unity's Story

Wednesday, 19 August 2009 18:10
Joshua Cole

My name is Heather Ann Presley and I was born on Dec 9th 1987. My parents are Steven and Tessa Close. When I was 3 months old I got taken by CPS and put in the care of my maternal grandparents. B/c my dad had raped me and my mom. My mom came and lived with us and I grew and when I learned to talk I imitated what I heard calling my grandparents mom and dad. Then when I was 3 my grandpa had a series of heart attacks died twice and was hospitalized for 47 days. Scared the shit outta me. I started elementary school when i was 5 and that started the teasing and the harassment from peers. Years passed by without anything eventful happening till when I was 10. My dad got released on profanation and came to my 10th birthday party that’s when I found out all about my past and what had happened. Then my mom got remarried. I started to not feel very happy anymore but I wasn't really "depressed yet" Then at the end of my 8th grade yr I had to change schools. Plus all of my friends were seniors and they were leaving me. So I became really depressed. I made my first suicide attempt by hanging. Didn’t really work that well. I started my new school and hated it the kids were even more horrible to me everyday I got busted by my counsellor etc. I managed through my freshmen yr. Then that summer my best friend came over to my house and shot and killed herself. She bled to death in my arms. That is what started a chain of suicide attempts and got me hospitalized for 2 month’s realizing I was bipolar had anxiety issues and minor OCD

Last Updated ( Wednesday, 19 August 2009 18:19 )

Ssawyerlove's Story

Wednesday, 19 August 2009 18:10
Joshua Cole

Well I am the oldest of 7 which is confusing story in its self i was molested at a young age I am not sure for how long or really what age but i was young i was raised thinking my father (bio) father died in Vietnam wrong but ill get to that my adoptive father molested me for however long my mother would say if i did not show my body off that my brothers would have a father and she did not put him in jail because you can't get child support from a man in jail ( my mother logic) anyways during sometime my mother had two girls who came to live with us my mother was very abusive towards us girls. I spent most of my adolescent life in and out of psyche hospitals even spent my 16th birthday in a hospital well 13 years ago on July 16 I had had an abortion after a very violet rape and after coming home from the procedure I may have been home for like an hour when the phone and someone knocking on my door all at the same time turned out my youngest sister had died in the night it slowly came about that the suspected suicide was more to believe of murder a month after her death my mother was arrested for the murder of my sister my mother pretty much hung her self on the stand when she said while I was on the stand that it was supposed to be me she found guilty of 16 charges in like 3 hours of all charges and so I went to drinking and drugs to cope and now I am clean and sober trying to deal with reality and just diagnosed with BPD blow my mind people wonder why I have fears of being abandoned.

Last Updated ( Wednesday, 19 August 2009 18:22 )

Verbena's Story

Wednesday, 19 August 2009 18:10
Joshua Cole

I am the middle of five children. We are close in age, with my brother the oldest. I have two younger, and one older sister.

My brother sexually molested each one of us. It was hard to say no when you knew that if not you, then your younger sister. My parents would send us to do chores with him, and if we tried not to go, we were the bad ones. He once turned a tractor over on himself and broke his leg. We got yelled at because he was alone - no thank God none of the little girls were along. He had power over the whole house, treating us and our parents any way he wanted. We watched them hand it over to him. My father is an alcoholic and joined AA 25 years ago. My sisters and I are still waiting for him to make amends to us for not providing us with a safe home, but I guess it's not happening.

I was sexually active at a young age with other boys, and became pregnant at 15. We married a year after my son was born, and went on to have another son, then divorced. My husband was the meanest, scariest man I ever met, and I was lucky to get out alive. We were in therapy together for a short time - when he baled out, I stayed, and became overly attached and dependent on my therapist.

After a year with no car and only able to work part time and not handling matters very well, I let my boys go live with their dad's parents. I had problems during this time with drugs and alcohol but did get that under control long enough to marry again. That marriage didn't work either because he was eastern European and we were too different. I was then alone for several years and again had problems with drugs and alcohol. I moved to another state, and determined to begin a new life. I spent much time soul searching, and eventually built a good reputation here.

I then was able to meet good people, and married an angel who has given me a good life. We have five boys between us and they are all adults now. I have had a good, rewarding job for 10 years. My moods, while fluctuating more than I would have liked, were managable. I had more problems and always have had more problems with my memory of current events in my life and misunderstandings with people in my current life. Several months ago I had major surgery, and suffered some stress from that which seems to have caused a bit of a flare-up. I am feeling good today, and when I feel good, I can't believe I'll ever feel that badly again. Then it comes around again, and I can't believe I'll ever feel good again.

Thanks for the reading.

Last Updated ( Wednesday, 19 August 2009 18:19 )

Abuse

Wednesday, 19 August 2009 18:10
Joshua Cole

It all started when I was age 11-12. My dad was an alcoholic and was hardly ever around, my mother had a year or two of being ill & was hardly out of bed. I had to play mum for my brothers and sisters. One night i stayed over with my cousin. We were laughing and making noise so I was put into a different room. His dad came in and sexually abused me, it went to court and it was my word against his "the case was not proven." I hated myself because I didn't fight back or even scream and in the way I got turned on. Then just over one year later I met a guy by accident he was in his 30s he was very manipulating and controlling, he made me think he loved me and that i needed him, ultimate mind played game player. He basically stalked me and would say he would tell every one everything all the time. I felt trapped but just couldn't tell anyone cause of the guilt of the 1st abuse. I thought people would think I wanted it or had made it up. He often raped and would beat me leading to me having a breakdown when I was 14/15 and was admitted to hospital. I was in hospital for a few months and when it was time for me to come out my parents didn't want me because I had lied to them about what happened to me over the past two years, among other things. So I was handed over to social services. I didn't understand why I got "blamed" for what had happened, why my family were angry at me. Doctors and therapist police and others were telling me "I had no control" how this guy was very clever and had a history of abusing other children but on the other hand my family were angry and couldn't understand why I lied to them & kept secrets for so long. This made me think maybe the man did love me maybe he was right I did need him! So I dropped all the charges pushing my family even further away! I ran away when I was 16 to a strange city I used to go out to clubs and drink all the time.

I met a guy when I was 16/17 I thought he loved me but he ended up very abusive too another control freak mind game player. He too was very abusive both mentally and physically often leading to me being hospitalized and on 1 occasion needing corrective surgery, I always knew I should leave him but never did, my reasons for this were I had no one else and I guess I just thought this was normal.

I became obsessed with this man and ended up at the stage where I was wanting & waiting for the next time for him to hit me. He would treat me like an idiot, I didn't count and normally spoke to me like dirt!

I sort of ended up almost wanting to be abused.

When I finally did get away I spent a year getting drunk and taking drugs going out clubbing every other night until I had a massive wake up call by getting in trouble with the police.

After this everything slowed down and I spent months and months in my bed I started cbt with a clinical psychologist which I do find helpful (some) times and also started taking anti depressants, I have been on 6 types of them now I know they have helped me but I am sick of the side effects.

This has been one of the hardest things I have had to write and would have liked to spend more time on detail grammar, etc.! but soz just cant! Basically be it the abuse, my family, mental illness or whatever I have had a live of fighting an inner hate, an inner disgust which at times has consumed me resulting in me self harming & overdosing, even self harming in the sense of being reckless and taking unnecessary risks with excessive drug/alcohol/sex/spending! Often don't know why but guess sheer escapism and lack of self respect play a large part! More recently almost gave up with doctors etc and looked into "alternative" help!

I would like to take this chance to tell anyone who can relate to what I have been through so far I have found that at the end of the day you are ultimately alone in this life yes we can have good friends doctors or whatever but only ourselves do we truly know what we feel what's going on in our head! Maybe im just a cynic but I know believe We have got to learn to be on our own as in taking some responsibility in dealing with and seek ways for us to help ourselves! We got to keep fighting and conquer "it" whatever it is!

Last Updated ( Wednesday, 19 August 2009 18:18 )

Anna's Story

Wednesday, 19 August 2009 18:10
Joshua Cole

I was born on August 29, 1988, in the same city in Birmingham I still live in. I lived in an apartment downtown with my parents and older sister, Amy, until I was 5. When I was 5 years old things started happening with my parents. At the time, I didn't really know what it was. I just remember they were fighting more and more often and my mother was always crying. Then one night, Daddy left. My mom was screaming at him, and he looked like he was going to cry. I ran to my room and climbed out the window. I walked the whole way to my grandmother's house about 6 miles away. When I got there, my grandmother called my mom and told her where I was and that I would be staying with her for a few days. I ended up staying much longer than a few days. My sister still lived with my mother, though she came to visit me and my grandparents frequently. One day I asked her what happened to Daddy. She told me he had died. I of course believed her, having no proof that she wasn't telling me the truth. I still don't really know why she told me this; maybe she thought it would be easier for me to understand that telling me that he didn't love us anymore and ran away from home and wouldn't come back. After all, I'm sure the thought he was never coming back. He eventually did move back in with my mother and sister. I would live with my parents for a few days, sometimes a week, and then go back to my grandparents house, feeling much safer and more at home there. One night while visiting my parents when I was 9, my dad had left again, and I was sitting on the back steps with my mother. She was drinking a glass of wine, calming herself down, after an obvious ordeal of tears and anger. I asked her for the truth about why my father left. She told me it was because he had loved someone more than her. I asked her if everything would be ok... she said she didn't know. When I was staying with her, I realized she cried every night. I would walk in there and tell her everyone was going to be alright. She seemed to get comfort from it. While living with my grandparents, my half-crazy grandfather sexually abused me for years. I learned all about running. I could run to a friend's house and eat dinner with them, or run to the library where no one would ever look for me (though they should have thought of it first) or just ride my bike around until everything was calm again. I spent most of my young childhood running. This isn't to say there were no happy points. There were. I always enjoyed every summer when my mother and father would take Amy and I to Six Flags and spend the night in Atlanta. By the time I was 12 I felt completely grown up. I took care of myself, worked at my grandmother's gift shop, and raised my younger cousin, Nathan. I was more of a mother to the boy than his real one. He was my responsibility. I was to take care of him because my grandmother was working and couldn't. When my grandfather would hit him, I would be the one to rescue him. When his father (my uncle) would get angry and start yelling and threatening us, I was the one who would run away with him until it was safe. His mother was never there. She left him and my uncle a year after Nathan was born.

When I was 13 my grandmother sat me down in the living room and told me that I was going to go stay with my parents. I assumed it would be no longer than a week. I didn't really respond. She told me they had gotten a house. Ok... so I would stay with them for maybe two weeks? No. I would be living with them permanently. *blink* What? I had to move in with them for... good? I had to change schools?! So... for the first time since I was 5 I moved into my parents new house (which is where I am now). I've been here for 3 years now.

By the time I was 14 I knew something wasn't right with me. After doing a lot of research I thought I was either suffering from depression or I was bipolar. I couldn't figure it out, but I didn't want to see a doctor. All I wanted was to be left alone. I started having more and more problems and I was screwing up all my relationships, friendships... everything was messed up. I started dating Ryan not thinking that it would turn into anything serious. I just needed to be held. Little did I know that 16 months later we would still be together.

Not long ago I met Wes, a good friend who has been recovering fro BPD. He told me about it and told me that he suspected that it could be what was wrong with me. He said after everything he felt and had learned about it, he understood me way too well and that he recognized the symptoms. So I started doing research. Life by this point was falling apart, and I just needed to know what was wrong. After all the research I did on bpd I figured there was very high chance it was my problem. I tried to talk to my parents, but they never did listen. So, I've been pretty much on my own. That's how I got here.